A Vision of Loveliness
by FatesMistake
Summary: Severus has a premonition about someone being in very real danger, even after the Dark Lord has gone. When he comes to Harry's rescue, the Boy Who Lived comes to stay at Spinner's End for the summer before 7th Year. In typical Gryffindor fashion, Severus finds all his preconceived notions turned on their head as Potter makes himself at home. SSHP
1. Chapter 1

A pale chest heaved in the summer heat. Sweat glistened in the rays from the street lamp outside. Glossy black hair lay in a fan around a gently tossing head on the lone, flat pillow. Long legs shifted fitfully under worn sheets, and longer fingers curled and flexed in the worn blanket atop the restless form. The perpetually shielded mind was caught in the throes of a nightmare. Visions of epic danger, of adventures gone awry, plagued assiduous thoughts in bright flashes, leaving no single idea to settle. However, a lone message stood out: danger.

Severus shot up in his bed, wand trained on the darkness that filled his room. Nothing there. He collapsed back on his pillow, black eyes staring at the peeling ceiling without seeing it. He instantly began his tried and worn routine, settling his shallow breathing and rapidly beating heart. He'd been dreaming. That was it, just a dream.

But it was more than that. The visions that had flashed in his mind were already hazy, but the message was clear. Danger. Somewhere, someone he knew and cared about was in immediate danger. Or was about to be. Or already had been. It was impossible to tell. Every witch and wizard had a touch of the Sight, but only true Seers could piece together their dreams and Visions into some semblance of sense. Still, he'd learned enough focus to at least extract _who_ the dream had warned about, if not _what_.

Slowly, Severus descended into his own mind. The visions were gone, but they had left behind a faint imprint. He had only to sort through the information. Danger, of course, that much was clear. But who? _Who?_ With deliberate care, Severus began sorting. Purple cloth…The smell of burning flesh…golden skin riddled with pale scars…a belt whistling through the air...and there, a dog, so familiar. Severus opened his eyes and stared again at the ceiling of his bedroom. Where had he seen that dog? Not recently. The Malfoys owned a dog, but that was an Irish Setter. This was shorter by a lot. Severus focused again on that faint image. A bulldog? Yes, that's what it was. But who did he know who owned a bulldog? No one. But he'd seen it _somewhere_.

As suddenly as he had when he first woke, Severus sat up sharply in his bed. This time, however, he did not merely sit. He stumbled gracelessly from his bed, stiff joints protesting as they did every morning. He glanced out of his window and saw the sky beginning to turn a dusty grey. He'd taken too long. If he hurried, he may make it there before the family began to rise from their own undisturbed slumber. Severus bustled about his room, gathering fresh clothing. Muggle, of course. His long hair could be a problem, but maybe not. Men had begun wearing their hair long again in recent years. He dressed quickly, sparing a moment to glance in the mirror. His clothes fit properly, at least. Everything else…there wasn't time to worry about it. He had to hurry. Rechecking that his wand was in its place, Severus didn't even bother leaving his house before disapparating. There wasn't even time enough for that.

The crack of apparition was so loud in the predawn silence that it caused several dogs to bark. Severus heard them distantly, but what he heard most was his heart in his ears. He wasn't too late. Please Merlin let him not be too late.

With practiced ease, Severus slunk into 4 Privet Drive. The locks were no match for his magic, and the creaky floorboards even less a match for his stealthy stride. In the entryway he paused, a dark shiver creeping up his spine. It was the staircase that had made the shadow that hung over his heart. What about it, he wasn't sure. He shrugged it aside. Not important now, only one thing mattered. His long legs carried him silently up the stairs two at a time. At the top he paused again. Which one? Black eyes narrowed in the dim light provided by the rising sun through the lone window at the end of the hall. His heart sunk when his vision adjusted to the dark. The door nearest him had no less than a half-dozen locks…and a cat flap. For some reason, he doubted it was a cat they kept in that room. More likely a lion.

Another wave of his wand had the lock bolts clicking free of their housings. With a heavy heart, he slipped into the room, leaving the door partially open. Fresh sunlight filtered in in checkered bars past the thick iron over the window. There was a bed against the wall, but at first it appeared to be empty. Then Severus noticed the lump in the middle. It was small, perhaps too small. He walked over. He was probably overreacting. Oh God, let him be overreacting.

"Potter! Wake up!" Severus whispered harshly in the otherwise silent room. His hand flicked out to lightly smack the lump under the worn and scratchy blanket.

The lump shifted, groaned, and stopped.

"Potter!" Severus tried again, smacking the lump a little harder.

In an instant Potter was up. He flipped over and sat up in the same movement, backing into the corner at the head of the bed. He squinted sleepily, rubbing at one eye. When his hand fell, Severus realized he wasn't really squinting. His left eye was swollen almost entirely shut, and that side of his face was bruised so dark that he'd mistaken it for a shadow. Only years of training caught the gasp of horror in his throat before it could escape. With deliberate care, Severus let his black eyes trail over the slight form. Potter was quite obviously emaciated, his skin, normally so bronzed it was golden, was a sickly pale color. That is, it was pale between the bruises evident on his neck, arms, and face. Severus doubted the bruises stopped where his shirt and trousers covered.

Scowling fiercely, Severus reached out and grabbed Potter by the arm, dragging him off the bed. "Get your things, Potter. We're leaving."

Potter scoffed and struggled against the hold on his arm. "I'm not going anywhere with you, Snape! Get off me, that hurts!"

Severus released the Gryffindor. "You would rather stay here?"

Potter stood up straight, so much shorter than Severus, and glowered. He did not, Severus noticed, give any answer either for or against. Instead, dull emerald met angrily shimmering onyx defiantly. Severus understood. It wasn't that he wanted to stay, it was that he didn't want to leave with _him_. Severus sighed in frustration.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," He bit out sharply. "But I cannot allow you to stay in this environment. Either you come with me, or I will alert the proper authorities and you can stay in an orphanage until your 17th birthday."

Potter's scowl slowly slipped into a frown. "Why do you care?"

Severus knitted his brow together, trying to find the words. "I-" He was cut off by hard knuckles rapping at the door.

"Boy! If you've done any of that freaky magic in my house, I'll have your head!" A deep voice growled as the door was pushed the rest of the way open. "You'll not escape again!"

Severus drew his wand as a remarkably large man walked into the small bedroom. The man he took to be Vernon Dursley froze at the sight of him. He sneered at the glutinous blob, and the bristly mustache screwed up in a sneer of it's own.

"Who the hell are you and what the hell are you doing in my house?!" Vernon demanded.

Potter surprised Severus by stepping between him and the whale. "Uncle Vernon, I can explain. This is-"

Dursley slapped the boy. Severus grabbed Potter as the younger wizard stumbled, and pulled him back. He lifted his wand again, and this time Dursley saw it. Severus smirked when the pasty, loose flesh paled remarkably. At least the imbecile knew to fear magic. Severus began leading Potter around the man, who lumbered around them with beady eyes staring fearfully at the black wand.

"Potter, get your things," Severus commanded again.

Potter shrugged off the hand on his shoulder. "Yes, Professor."

Severus was immensely grateful that the brat hadn't argued a second time. Instead, the Gryffindor Golden Boy moved around his uncle, giving the man a wide berth, and slithered under his bed. Severus expected him to come out with his trunk, but after a long minute, the younger wizard backed out with barely an armful of items which Severus took to be mementos. As Severus watched, Potter took his broken glasses off the table near his bed and slipped them painfully onto his swollen face.

"Where are the rest of your things?" Severus asked, leaving his wand trained on Dursley.

Potter looked down with chagrin. "In the cupboard under the stairs. Except Hedwig, I loaned her to Hermione for the summer, so she wouldn't be locked in a cage all the time."

Severus snarled at Dursley, who looked more and more like he wanted to bolt. At least that explained why Potter's summer homework was almost never complete. Severus felt more and more like clobbering the Wizarding Savior's relatives over the head with the thickest book he could find. Albus was always inquiring as to Severus' dislike of Muggles. _This_ was why. He looked at his student.

"Show me."

This was all he said, and all he needed to say. Potter shrugged and turned, leading the way out of the room. Severus spared a moment to sneer distastefully at the Dursley whale before following the younger wizard down the hall and back down the stairs. At the bottom, Potter turned sharply left and led Severus to a small, slanted door. Wordlessly, Potter pointed to the obscenely large padlock, setting his things on a nearby table.

Severus frowned. "Where's your wand?"

Again, Potter pointed to the slanted door. Severus snarled his anger. His own wand slashed through the air violently, and the padlock shattered from the force of his spell. He knew better than to cast while angry, but it could hardly be helped right now. Potter immediately pulled the door open and reached into the dark space. Slowly, laboriously, he dragged his trunk out of the small space. When he was clear, Severus stepped forward to make sure he'd gotten everything. He didn't want either of them to have to return to this house for any reason.

"No, wait-!"

Severus stuck his head into the cramped cupboard, and his sharp eyes adjusted to the dim light from the hallway. Obsidian widened with dawning understanding. Against the back wall lay a small cot. With trembling fingers, Severus lit the tip of his wand, and light flared in the tiny room. There was indeed a small cot against the back wall. A bestirred purple blanket lay haphazardly over the bare mattress, as if it's owner had gone suddenly. But neither the blanket nor the thin layer of dust could hide the maroon stains that stood out on the faded fabric of the mattress. Severus backed out of the cupboard and looked at his student. The Wizarding Savior looked away self-consciously.

Hot anger flared in Severus' chest, and he turned towards the foot of the stairs. Dursley stood there, as well as a woman that was about the same size. Behind them, a familiar horse-faced woman came down the stairs. He turned his devilish black gaze on her, though she had yet to notice him.

"What on earth is- Severus!"

The Potions Master glowered. " _This_ is how you treat the son of your sister, Petunia?!"

The slightly older woman stood to her full height defiantly. "I never asked to raise the little freak," She argued. "I did my best by him."

" _This_ is your best?!" Severus demanded, gesturing to the cupboard. "And what of this?" He gestured to Potter's bruised person.

Petunia sniffed indignantly. "The little freak fell down the stairs. The clumsy little fool."

Severus felt his anger flare. "Do you take _me_ for a fool, Petunia? I knew you were jealous of your sister, but to treat her son like _this_ …" He trailed off, too angry to continue.

"How they treat their nephew is none of your concern," The large woman said. "The little bastard should have been in an orphanage from the start. Good-for-nothing child that he is, he was lucky to be given a home here."

Severus raised his wand. Finally, Potter reacted. He leapt in front of Severus' wand.

"No!"

Severus started, and looked down into Potter's pleading green eyes.

"Please," Potter murmured. Hesitantly, his hand reached out and lay upon Severus' wand arm. "Please, Professor, they aren't worth it. You-you'll get into trouble. Let's…let's just go, yeah? Please?"

Severus looked between Potter and his relatives. After a long moment of consideration, his anger was doused. He lowered his wand, sheathing it under his sleeve, and gave a stiff nod.

"Very well, Mister Potter," He answered with infinite patience. "Get your things. We're leaving."

Potter visibly relaxed as he moved back to his trunk. He flipped open the lid and dropped the things from under his bed within. After taking his wand out, he closed the lid again, latching it, and took the bulky trunk by the handle on the side. Emerald turned to obsidian expectantly, and Severus gave a stiff nod of approval. He turned back to the gathered family at the base of the stairs, but spared them hardly a glance. If he caught their eye, he knew, he would not be able to control his anger. A large part of control was knowing when you had none, and he was very aware of the precipice on which he stood. Instead, he led his student past the monsters that had so mistreated him, and left the house. Potter followed dutifully, and together they made their way down the walk. Severus briefly considered summoning the Knight Bus, but thought better of it. The chance that the family, or even one of the neighbors, was looking out the window, was too great a risk. He turned to Potter questioningly.

"There's a park about two miles from here. It's in disrepair, so no one ever uses it. Slightly closer, there's Mrs. Figg's house. She's a Squib, but she has floo access so she can keep Dumbledore apprised of my well-being," Potter answered. "And before you get angry at a little old lady who doesn't deserve it, she _has_ told Dumbledore about how my relatives treat me, and he's chosen to ignore it in favor of the blood protection."

Severus frowned, studying again the bruised and swollen visage of the Wizarding Savior. It boggled the mind, to think he'd survived Voldemort for six years, only to have this done to him by _Muggles_. "I will have to have a discussion with the Headmaster about the definition of 'protection'. For now it would be best to apparate. Is there somewhere closer from which we can apparate?

Potter nodded. "Sure. There are some bushes around the side of the house that we can hide in. But…can we apparate with my trunk?"

Severus gave a stiff nod. "It is difficult, but it can be done. Lead the way, Mister Potter."

Potter gave a nod of his own and turned back towards the house. Severus followed him around the side of 4 Privet Drive, and saw immediately the stand of bushes Potter had mentioned. Without hesitation, Potter pushed through a hidden weak spot in the foliage. Severus entered behind him, and saw how worn the earth was in this secret place. How many times had Potter hidden here over the years to escape his brutal relatives? With a final look at the house (Severus knew without a doubt that he would return quite soon to do what Potter had prevented him doing already), Severus grabbed Potter's arm and apparated them without warning.

With a sharp _crack_ , the two wizards landed in the back garden of Spinner's End. Potter immediately collapsed to his hands and knees, and Severus watched the emaciated form heave, trying to empty an already empty stomach. Guilt gnawed at his heart for forgetting to warn Potter about the effects of apparition. Rather than apologize, however, Severus merely took up the trunk Potter had released and began walking towards the house.

"If you're going to be sick, Potter, then do so before you come inside." He said harshly.

He heard Potter gasp a gulping breath behind him. "Yessir."


	2. Chapter 2

By the time Potter had collected himself enough to come inside, Severus was already pulling down the things for breakfast. His house may be in disrepair, but he prided himself on having a well-stocked kitchen. With a guest for the first time in many years (Albus didn't count), he was suddenly grateful for this fact. He didn't turn as Potter shuffled into the kitchen. Only when the bacon and sausages were sizzling did he turn. Potter was still standing near the doorway, hugging himself self-consciously and staring at his bare feet. Severus' eyebrow rose curiously. He turned back to his kitchen and opened a cupboard seemingly at random. He pulled down two plain mugs, one chipped on the rim, and magically boiled water for tea. He filled each mug, settled a tea bag into each, and took the mugs to the small, uneven table between the two doorways. He looked at Potter critically.

"Sit," He commanded. The younger wizard started, but moved immediately to one of the two chairs at the table. "Now tell me what really happened to leave you in such a state."

Potter sighed, shifting uncomfortably in his chair, and pulling one of the mugs towards him. Severus, knowing what it was to share such a thing, moved back to the stove to give Potter the space to breathe. He knew the younger wizard would speak; it was just a matter of how much he would say. Skillful hands flipped bacon in a weathered wrought-iron skillet, and rolled sausage in a much newer Teflon pan. He heard Potter sigh again.

"I-I really did fall down the stairs," Potter said softly, his voice barely audible over the sizzle of grease. "I suppose most of my bruises are because of that. Uncle Vernon was…he 'taught me a lesson' about breaking their valuable dishes, and ruining Aunt Petunia's clean floor. When he finished, I was to return to my room. You saw my door. I've been locked in there since I got back, save bathroom breaks. I was only let out a couple nights ago because Aunt Petunia needed more hands for the dinner she was making to welcome Aunt Marge. She was the other woman you met, Uncle Vernon's sister. Anyway, I dropped a hot pan when it burned me, and cracked Aunt Petunia's clean tile." Severus looked over his shoulder to see Potter holding up his left hand. A large burn, red and angry, and showing signs of having bled, stood out on the palm of his hand. "So Uncle Vernon taught me a lesson, and sent me back upstairs to my room. I was about halfway up when Aunt Marge's dog tripped me on the stairs. As if that wasn't bad enough, Dudley kicked me in the ribs for being a clutz and nearly knocking him over, because he'd been climbing the stairs behind me…Well, I say climbing. I really mean lumbering like a gorilla who can't catch his breath."

Severus smirked over the breakfast he was cooking. "We will address your wounds after we eat," He said aloud, his voice stoic. "Now explain why you look starved."

Potter snorted a scoff. "Probably because I technically have been. I was getting one meal a day, which usually consisted of a piece of fruit, some water, and a slice of bread."

Severus frowned, getting the eggs from the fridge. "You will find you'll get significantly better fare here."

"I appreciate that, Professor."

"It isn't free," Severus said sharply, turning. Potter looked absolutely stunned at this. "You will be expected to attend at least two meals a day, and will eat no less than half of your serving. Outside of meals, you will be put to work. My home may not seem like much to you, but I do like to keep it tidy. You will also be doing your homework every day until it is finished, at which time I will give you extra assignments to be sure you've actually absorbed the information in that thick skull of yours. After your seventeenth birthday you can go where you list, but I won't have a lay-about in my home between now and then. If you cannot accept these stipulations, I will contact the Headmaster and find you somewhere else to stay, even if it is an orphanage."

"No," Potter said quietly, staring at his tea. "That's alright. I…I appreciate you welcoming me into your home. And your stipulations aren't a problem. I haven't really got anywhere else to go, anyway. I gave Remus Grimmauld, the Weasley's are on vacation, and Hermione's parents don't really approve of me."

Severus grunted. "I don't know what you expect to see in that mug, but _I_ am up here. It seems I will have to teach you manners while you're here, as well. To start, you should _look_ at whomever you're talking to. And do not mumble. Am I understood, Mister Potter?"

The Gryffindor looked up and green met black. "Yes, Professor."

Severus turned back to the stove and began frying a few eggs. "Good. It is encouraging to see that you _can_ be taught. Let us hope the rest of the month goes so smoothly."

Potter chuckled behind him. "Yes, Professor."


	3. Chapter 3

Severus lay awake in his bed, listening to Potter shuffle around downstairs. It had been three days since the unforeseen rescue. Potter had been shockingly cooperative, and had already begun healing properly. Each day Severus wondered when the Potter he knew would come crawling out of the self-conscious grave he'd been buried alive in. He supposed that 'when' was now, and it had to do with whatever Potter was doing to his home downstairs. Despite his disdain for the younger wizard, he really hoped Potter wasn't running away. He'd already made it clear he had nowhere else to go.

With a sigh, the Potions Master rolled out of bed. He'd been listening to Potter doing whatever it was for a little more than a half hour. The sun was already starting to breach the horizon. It was about time he put a stop to whatever destructive thing Potter was doing.

With another sigh, Severus dressed, brushed out his hair, and started down the hidden staircase. He touched the back of the hidden door thoughtfully. This had been the selling point for his mum, when she and his father had bought the house. It had already been in a mostly run-down state, and it had been before Tobias found alcohol like most Muggles find Jesus. He'd promised to fix the house up nice, a promise he never kept. But it hadn't mattered to Eileen Prince, because she still loved the secret little door, and she was as happy as a woman could be to have a son to share in her delight.

Straightening and affixing his stoic mask in place, Severus pushed open the bookcase and stepped into the living room. There was no sign of Potter, at least not here. Gliding silently through, Severus checked the den, saving the kitchen for last. Still no sign. Well, at least the Gryffindor hadn't decided to destroy his home thus far. Afraid of what he'd find, Severus moved into the kitchen. At last, he had found his quarry.

"Potter…"

To the Gryffindor's credit, he barely started, his shoulders twitching. He turned with a shy smile, and his blush was obvious even under the fading bruises. "Er, good morning, Professor," He said, carefully meeting Severus' eye.

The brat had yet to slip ever since Severus' gentle reminder that it was rude not to look at someone when you were talking to them. Severus held little hope for the trend to continue beyond the summer, nor even the end of the week. Young men were quick to promise, and repented in leisure. Just look at this house his father had never lifted a finger to fix.

"What are you doing, Potter?"

Potter looked away, chewing at his healed lip. He turned around again, this time with one of Severus' pans in his hand. He gestured with his bandaged left at the pancake batter beginning to bubble. "This is probably stupid, since I know you can cook for yourself, and you probably don't like people touching your things, but…" Green sparked defiantly as it stared into onyx. "I'm thanking you," Potter said with conviction. "For a lot, but mostly for the last few days. You came for me when no one else did. It doesn't really matter why you were there, but you might have saved my life. My uncle has never been more violent than this summer, and I doubt it would have gotten better when I was forced to stick around after my 17th birthday, since no one else has a place for me. But you've _made_ a place for me, though, so…thanks…for everything."

Severus considered the young man before him, carefully letting the words sink in. Finally, he gave a single stiff nod in response. "Your pancake is burning."

Potter immediately flicked the pan, tossing the batter into the air and catching it deftly with the uncooked side down. Severus felt a reflexive urge to ask how that had been done. His mum had done that when she made pancakes, but had always responded 'it's magic' when asked how. He wasn't about to fall into that, or a more likely _worse,_ trap this many years later. Instead, he moved to his table and sat. As soon as Potter had finished with the pancake, he moved immediately to the cupboard and pulled down a mug. He next moved expertly to another cupboard and pulled the tea tin down, filling the mug with boiling water from the stove's back burner. Well, at least that explained all the shifting and shuffling from before. The brat had been familiarizing himself with the kitchen. Severus wondered why the young man had even bothered. He would be gone in just a few weeks.

Potter brought over the mug of tea, and Severus noticed that he'd been given the mug with the chip. It was his favorite, but he had hardly vocalized such a thing. This was just something else to speak to Potter's surprising awareness. He accepted the tea silently and watched as Potter set about finishing the breakfast he'd started. He would need to go shopping soon. Well-stocked or not, his kitchen was not so well stocked as to sustain another person for so long. After only a few days, his cupboards were starting to look bare.

It still struck Severus about how well Potter was keeping his end of their non-negotiable deal. He'd attended each meal like clockwork, even going as far as setting the table, and had been working diligently, if a bit slowly, at his summer homework. Severus hadn't even realized until the day before that, thanks to Slughorn, Potter would be in his NEWT class this upcoming term. It was surprisingly difficult not to offer his assistance on the essay that was clearly troubling the young man.

As Potter continued to move decisively around his kitchen, Severus took note of what the young man was wearing. Like everything else the young man apparently owned, his clothes were ragged and several sizes too big. Even the belt that cinched up the waist of his pants was so long it had been tied, rather than looped. Severus also didn't miss how closely Potter brought things to his face as he checked expiration dates. He'd noticed the day before that Potter squinted an awful lot whenever he read anything. With a sigh, Severus knew he couldn't let either problem go unaddressed, especially since he was already planning on going out, anyway.

Eventually, Potter served the breakfast he'd worked so hard on, and they ate together in silence. Severus, had, by now, grown used to the silence. Whilst he didn't normally advocate for mealtime conversation, he wasn't entirely against it either. This had been Potter's habit, and Severus was loathe to be the first to break it. So they ate in silence. That is, until…

"Professor?"

Severus looked up at his student expectantly.

Potter blushed again, but continued. "I was wondering…that is, if it would be okay if I took a break from my studies today? You told me it was my responsibility to help you keep the place tidy, and I noticed that you haven't really expected anything of the sort from me thus far. I thought perhaps I could start doing those chores, and attend to my homework after dinner. I've still got almost two months to have it all finished."

Severus scowled. "We do not procrastinate in this house, Potter. I would see your homework done before I expected you to clean."

Potter nodded. "Oh, a-alright. It was just a thought."

Severus sighed. "Today, however, you will be excused from your studies," He admitted. Potter frowned in confusion. "Certain things have come to my attention, and we will be going into London today."

Severus watched with interest as Potter visibly struggled with the urge for insolence. Finally, he simply nodded, biting his lips to prevent himself asking _why_ they were going into London. Severus could admit to himself that he was somewhat surprised by Potter's self-control. Why had the young man never exhibited this ability at the school? Perhaps it was a sign that the foolish Gryffindor was finally maturing. With a smirk, Severus decided to end the young man's misery.

"We need food, and you need new glasses."

Potter gaped in poorly hidden surprise. "But you already repaired-"

"That is beside the point," Severs said succinctly. "It is clear you require more than simple reparations. It is obvious to anyone who looks that your _prescription_ is wrong. Had someone competent been sent to fetch you before your First Year, they would have immediately secured a new one for you."

Potter scowled. "Now hold on, that isn't fair. Hagrid did what he could for me. It isn't his fault he came with little information and even less knowledge of the Muggle world."

Severus' eyebrow rose with interest. "Indeed," He drawled. "And who do you think is to blame for such a gross oversight, if not the half-giant himself?"

Potter continued to scowl. "I'd say it's a toss-up between Dumbledore and Tom Riddle," He answered fearlessly. "Dumbledore could have, and should have, sent someone who knew what they needed to, and Hagrid might have _known_ what he needed to if Riddle hadn't gotten him expelled as a Third Year. It's only by Dumbledore's good graces that Hagrid can mostly function as an adult in the Wizarding World, never mind throwing him into a group of ogling Muggles."

Severus smirked. "Very well, Mister Potter, your argument has merit. I concede the point."

"What? Seriously?"

Severus felt his smirk twitch, threatening to transform into a teasing smile. What the hell had gotten into him?

"Do not let it go to your head," He said aloud. "However, _my_ point remains just as valid. You are going to be tested by a real optometrist, and receive a prescription you can actually use. I know of a place not far from Diagon Alley."

Potter nodded. "Alright, Professor. Erm, thank you, I guess."

Severus' eyebrow rose further. "I believe we have discussed mumbling already."

Potter flinched. "Sorry."

Severus gave a stiff nod and returned his attention to his breakfast. Potter seemed grateful to do the same. It occurred to Severus that this was, perhaps, the strangest conversation either of them had ever had, beginning with the fact of who they were conversing with. He had certainly never imagined himself capable of having a civil discussion with the Gryffindor, nor having the young man in his home, for that matter. The summer was certainly shaping out to be a strange one.


	4. Chapter 4

Before they left the house, Severus cast a glamour charm over the younger wizard, to ensure neither of them were asked untoward questions. They had then left immediately for the only optometrist Severus knew the location of. It was the same one he had gone to, to receive his reading glasses, only a few years ago. One major problem with living in the Wizarding World the majority of the year was poor lighting, and he tended to need the assistance when his eyes tired after staring at poorly-written essays with only torches and candles to illuminate the sloppy scripts.

Potter surprised him for the second time that day by saying little as he was fitted for new glasses. He answered the doctor's questions, but said nothing besides. Severus only learned once he had paid for the exam, that it was _this_ that had had the young man so silent.

"Professor, you don't have to—"

"It is done, Potter."

This had been answered with more silence, and Severus wondered how long the treatment would last when Potter realized how much more expensive his new frames were going to be. The young lady out front had been kind enough to help him find a pair that actually complimented his face, rather than making him look like an owl, and Severus had noted the hefty price tag that had been clipped to the earpiece. It bothered him less than one might think. He had a lucrative mail-order business, and his salary at the school was not ungenerous. Still, he suspected Potter's silence wasn't due to embarrassment alone. It fit with the young man he had begun to get to know that Potter was thinking about how best to repay him. He made a mental note to stop by Gringotts and order the goblins to refuse any and all transfers from the Potter and Black accounts.

And so it was that he left Potter at Gladrags to get appropriate attire for someone who would be legally an adult in less than a month. He did stop at Gringotts, to do precisely as he'd noted, but he did not go to the Apothecary, as he had told Potter he would. Instead, he had business in Surrey that had yet to be handled. Potter, he knew, would disapprove, as would Albus in an official way, but he was not prepared to let such an injustice as he'd witnessed go unpunished. He didn't let the parents of his Slytherins get away with such things, he was hardly going to allow it from his best friend's sister. Not even the lowly worm that Potter called 'cousin' would escape his wrath this day.

 _-Break-_

When Severus found Potter on the Alley a few hours later, he was burdened by a great many shopping bags, and looked very different. So different, in fact, that Severus had had to look twice, and was only convinced by the owl-ish frames they would soon replace that it was Potter who had called out to him. The amazing thing was that it wasn't Potter's face that had changed. The boy blushed.

"I look like an idiot, don't I?" The boy asked, struggling not to lower his gaze. "The shop keep at Gladrags insisted I wear this outfit out, so he could burn the clothes I came in, and then I went looking for you, and I'm not entirely sure how, but I found myself at the Beauty Wizard's shop, and she wanted to give me a haircut and some sort of potion to tame my hair, all at a discount that she wouldn't let me pass up."

Severus looked the younger wizard up and down appraisingly. With his hair mildly tamed (it was still messy, but had clearly been styled that way), and clothing that accentuated his Quidditch-toned body, he looked surprisingly less like his idiot father. He looked, in fact, like a new entity altogether, and Severus suspected his new glasses would only complete the look. Finally, Severus smirked into the green eyes.

"Well, at least the shopkeepers of Diagon Alley have more sense than you." It was as close as he would come to telling the young man he looked nice, even attractive for someone who liked scrawny and underfed.

Potter blushed, seeming to understand the buried compliment. "Thanks. I also found out that you blocked me being able to pay you back for my glasses."

Severus' eyebrow rose curiously.

"I understand why you did it," Potter admitted. "We've _both_ got our pride though, and I hope you know that I will spend the rest of the summer trying to repay the strange kindness you've shown me thus far."

Severus decided not to reply. Young men were quick to promise and repented in leisure, after all. Instead, he waved his wand, shrinking Potter's things, and began to lead the way back to the fore of the Alley so they could return to the optometrist. It had been long enough that his glasses should be ready. Severus wondered, as he considered that Potter had obviously gone to the bank, if the young man would fight him over who would pay for the expensive frames. He relished the challenge.


	5. Chapter 5

Potter did, in the end, fight Severus over who would buy his frames. And, to Severus' great surprise, Potter _won_ the argument. The Potions Master was still unsure how it had happened, exactly; he only knew that it had. And, would wonders never cease, Potter had begun doing his utmost to repay his imagined debt almost immediately following their return to Spinner's End. He cooked at least one meal every day, though which meal varied based on which of them noted the time and reached the kitchen first.

He had also gone at his homework with new fervor. Before he had gone through the motions, but Severus noted with satisfaction that being able to properly read his texts turned Potter into a quick study. He suspected it had much to do with actually _understanding_ what he read, rather than working too hard to even see the words, let alone comprehend their meaning. This did not turn Potter into a better student, no force on Earth could turn him into that, it simply leant itself to his study habits. Rather than quitting in frustration with a burgeoning headache, he was more likely to focus on his work long enough to complete most, if not all, of an essay before giving up. Severus, who was proud to see this more studious Gryffindor, was much more likely to be lenient and let Potter abandon his lessons earlier. It helped, of course, that Potter had taken to 'tidying up' his house.

Severus was just as surprised to find that Potter's definition of tidying up differed so greatly from his own. In two weeks, the younger wizard had reorganized his bookshelves into a previously agreed-upon order; he had cleaned all of the windows, dusted everything, and had even gone so far as to rearrange Severus' furniture under direction. Severus was amazed to discover his dilapidated house could look so clean and bright. It was still a dilapidated house, mind, but it was definitely brighter and cleaner than he had seen it in more than ten years. And there seemed to be no end to the things Potter could find to do. Once the house was clean, he had taken to spending his afternoons in the front or back garden, cleaning out the immense weeds that had taken over both. Severus wondered what Potter planned to do once he'd completed the task. So long had the weeds been in the yard, there wasn't anything else alive.

It was on Potter's 17th birthday that the Gryffindor surprised him more than anything else had done previously.

Severus awoke that morning expecting his house guest to be gone. There was no sound anywhere in the house, and Severus remembered hearing Potter moving around in his bedroom across the hall sometime after midnight. The Potions Master supposed that had been Potter packing. Where the younger wizard would go, Severus didn't know. It was not as simple as it had been in the past to pretend he also didn't care.

With extra care (he would _not_ go racing through the house looking for someone he already knew wasn't there), Severus dressed deliberately. He pretended not to notice that he dressed nicer than normal. He also pretended not to notice when he took extra care of his appearance in the mirror, or that he tied back his hair for the first time in years. He pretended he didn't want Potter to be cooking downstairs, or sleeping-in across the hall. He feigned absolute ignorance as he slipped a precisely wrapped package into the pocket of his slacks.

Slowly and deliberately, Severus walked down the stairs, pushed past the bookshelf Potter had painstakingly organized, and walked past the living room. No Potter, no surprise. Severus walked into the kitchen and couldn't stop his eyes immediately flicking towards the stove. No Potter there, either. He resisted the urge to race back upstairs and check the guest room. He already knew what he would find.

"Good morning, Professor."

Severus fought down the desire to start like one of his students. Visibly, there was no change, but he could not stop his heart leaping into his throat. He rounded on his wobbly kitchen table, where Potter sat, innocently nursing his usual mug of tea. Severus violently quashed the desire to gape like a fish.

"Potter…you're still here…" He managed to grind out, finding it difficult to speak beyond the beating lump in his throat. He swallowed painfully a few times, refusing to clear his throat.

Potter cleared his. "Yeah, I am. I-I wasn't sure if I should stay, or what to do. I'd just about made up my mind to at the very least cook you breakfast, as a thanks, when you came in. Is…is it alright that I'm still here? I can leave, if you want. I'll get a room at the Leaky Cauldron or something."

"What of your friends?" Severus asked carefully. He had no idea how to say he didn't want Potter to go anywhere.

"They sent their gifts last night. I completely forgot that they all still think I'm at the Dursley's. But, I guess you meant why I didn't go to one of them the minute I turned seventeen. Ron is still on vacation with his family, visiting Charlie in Romania, thanks to the twins' generosity, and Hermione's parents are Muggles who don't approve of me or the adventures I've apparently led her into. I suppose I could ask Neville if I can stay with him and his gran, or maybe I could ask Dean, or even the twins, now that I think about it, but… to be completely honest I was _hoping_ that I could…that I could stay _here_."

This took Severus by such surprise that he did gape briefly before recovering himself. "Why?"

Potter shrugged, glanced at his cup and released an unsteady breath, then looked back up into Severus' earnest onyx gaze. "The short answer is that I'm…I'm comfortable here," The Gryffindor admitted. "I've got responsibilities, but you don't treat me like a slave. You let me do my part around the house, but at the same time you don't demand my attention constantly. I'm free here. I know that sounds strange, but…When I'm with my friends, my time is theirs to command. Hermione's always harping about homework, and Ron's always wanting to goof off. Here, I'm allowed to be Just Harry, and as long as I'm responsible, you let me do what I like. So…can I stay? It'll only take me a couple hours to pack if you'd rather not have me around anymore, and I would totally understand, but-"

Potter stopped mid-sentence when Severus raised his hand in a gesture his students knew well. Severus eyed the Gryffindor critically, pretending as if this wasn't exactly what he had hoped for. When had he become so used to Potter's presence? When had it become, not only okay, but _right_ to have the younger wizard around? When had stoic acceptance become an expectation? Damn the confounding Gryffindor. He should have known to keep his distance from Potter to start with. Gryffindors had a talent for turning things on their head. But, as always happened with Lions, the brat had burrowed in, just as Albus and Minerva had done before him, and Lily had done before them. Damn Gryffindors.

Severus tossed the package from his pocket and Potter caught it deftly. "You can stay."

As Potter tore into the package, possibly the least significant gift he'd received on this significant day, Severus moved to the refrigerator and began pulling out the things for breakfast. He had hidden it carefully from the brat, in case his assumption that Potter would leave as soon as possible had been correct, but now he pulled the special breakfast items from their hidden nooks and crannies. He began carefully mixing the ingredients for chocolate chip pancakes. He didn't normally have a sweet tooth, but he'd noticed after their solitary trip to Diagon Alley that Potter had one large enough for the both of them. Potter gasped behind him, and Severus turned nonchalantly.

"A-are you serious?" Potter asked carefully, looking up at him.

Severus smirked. "It is a trifle," He answered, knowing it was no such thing. "I told you that you may go where you list once you turned seventeen, and I meant it. That key will allow you to do as you please, so long as you keep to my rules. You will have a curfew, but otherwise you can go where you like, when you like. As for the card, I believe its instructions are clear. You can have one favor from me. I suggest you hold that dear, as I do not give favors lightly. I am not bound to it, however. I will not change a grade, or forgive misbehavior. I realize this limits the card's uses, but I am sure you will find something, given enough time to mull it over."

His explanation finished, Severus turned back to making breakfast. He waited for Potter to ask for a repeat, or something else just as obvious.

"Do I have to give the key back at the end of the summer?"

Severus paused. He had not considered this. Did he want to give Potter unlimited access to his home once this strange camaraderie was ended? Did he dare trust anyone, especially this trouble magnet, with such a thing? More surprising than the question, Severus found he really wasn't sure one way or the other. So he turned with a smirk, feigning nonchalance.

"We will see."


	6. Chapter 6

Potter lived to confound him. A few days following his birthday, the young man finished pulling the weeds from Severus' garden. He then promptly began seeding the cleansed earth with plants he found at the home improvement store a few miles away. He had even gone so far as to ask Severus for a growth potion, which he watered the front and back lawns with. Already, the two yards which had been yellow and overgrown for so long Severus couldn't recall them being anything else, had begun to sprout green. Mostly it was resilient grass that grew, but Potter had whimsically planted a few flowering bushes, as well as a row of herbs in the back garden. It stood to reason that Potter was making such an effort in an attempt at repayment, but Severus still couldn't understand why the young man was so keen on improving his home. He would be gone after the summer, and would likely forget this place entirely given enough time.

Worse, Potter was unprepared to stop his improvements at the yard. They were enjoying a simple lunch of sandwiches when it happened. Potter had finished his homework, and was easily completing his extra assignments before the afternoon meal every day. Severus had already begun to notice the young man becoming restless in the afternoon hours, with nothing to occupy him.

"Professor?"

Severus looked up from the book he had brought to the table.

Potter blushed. He seemed to do that a lot, especially when he was about to ask permission for something.

"I had a thought."

Severus smirked. "That's dangerous."

The brat chuckled. "Granted," He joked back. He cleared his throat lightly. "Anyway, I was thinking…and I don't want to insult you…but you've already admitted that your house is a bit…run down, yeah?" Severus nodded. "Right, well…IwaswonderingiifIcouldbeallowedtofixsomethings?"

Severus' eyebrow rose precariously. "I think whatever you just said falls under the category of mumbling," He pointed out.

Potter's blush deepened. "Right, sorry." He took a deep breath. "I was…I was wondering if I could have your permission to fix up a few things around the house? Like the flickering lights in the living room, or the water pressure issues. Maybe even some paint here and there? The Dursley's were always too cheap to hire professionals, so I know how to do a lot of basic repairs to electrical and plumbing, mostly from trial and error, and I repainted the back stoop five or six times since I was seven, so I know how to do that…and…er, why are you looking at me like that?"

Severus realized his confusion had begun to show and he carefully shifted into his usual stoic mask. It shouldn't matter _why_ Potter wanted so badly to improve his home. It kept the younger wizard occupied while Severus worked on his experiments and mail-order potions. The Potions Master made a conscious effort not to inquire as to the young man's motives. Instead, he gave a stiff nod.

"You have my permission. However, I do have one condition."

Potter frowned. "Sir?"

Severus smirked. "Do not kill yourself. The Headmaster would be most displeased with me if you fell from a ladder and broke your neck, or electrified yourself."

The brat chuckled again. "Deal. I'll walk down to the store this afternoon and pick up a few things I'll need to start with."

Severus gave another stiff nod. This was another thing Potter had been diligent about. Despite it not being a condition of his freedom, he always made sure Severus was aware of where he was going or what he was doing. Often times Severus would look up from his potions to find a note slid under the door of his laboratory in the basement, telling him that there was food prepared, and that the younger wizard was in the garden or had walked to one of the stores in the neighborhood and when he should be expected back. It was less than a week ago Potter had vanished for an hour longer than his projected return. That argument had been entirely too reminiscent of their history together, and Severus still had no idea of why Potter had been late. Of course, he also still couldn't admit, even in his own mind, that his anger had been born of worry.

Severus turned back to the conversation at hand. "I will give you a small allowance to get the things you need."

Potter shook his head. "No, sir."

Severus frowned.

"I cannot, and will not, accept your money," Potter said defiantly. "I've been living here rent free for almost two months, and you won't even let me buy my own food. The least I can do is help out around the house. What's the point of inheriting a fortune from my godfather, if I can't use it for something that matters? Just think of it as Sirius paying up for all the shit he and James put you through…if you'll pardon my language."

Severus' frown twisted into a scowl. "Potter-"

"I'm not going to argue, Professor," Potter interrupted. "If you want to give me money, then fine. It'll stay in a jar on your mantle, and you can use it as an emergency fund if I screw up. Otherwise, I'm not taking your money."

Severus was annoyed to find the young man had found a reasonable alternative. And it was clear the stubborn Gryffindor wasn't going to be swayed. He growled and got up from the table angrily, leaving the room. Damn the brat. Now he had to go through the garage to find a suitable jar.


	7. Chapter 7

To Severus' infinite surprise, his Gryffindor guest did not renege on the work he had promised. By the time September 1st arrived, Severus' house looked completely different. His dim, flickering lights were much brightened after Potter spent a few hours one day in the attic, messing around with electrical wires Severus would never in a million years understand. His pipes no long groaned or whined, and he had appropriate water pressure, as promised. Even the exterior of his home looked so different from what it had been before this strange summer. More than the promised new paint, Potter had rehung or replaced the wood siding. He'd repaired the fallen rainspout; fixed the garage door so that it could actually open, and just for something to do in his final days before he was due to leave, had completely reorganized the things in the garage.

Severus could not decide if he was more impressed with Potter's dedication to his work, or the fact that all of this had been done without magic. He had never imagined, after returning to his childhood home, that the place could be anything but run-down and dilapidated. He had certainly never had the physical inclination to be able to perform the necessary repairs. He still couldn't figure out where Potter had gotten the energy for all of this.

He could, however, admit that the repairs had had a fine effect on the young man, almost as much as the effect they'd had on the house. Thanks to his tireless work in the garden, Potter's tan was restored to it's usual bronze; thanks to his climbing, clambering, and lifting, real muscle had begun to show on his too-small frame. And, of course, thanks to the exercise each task called for, the glow had returned to his impossibly green eyes (eyes, Severus had realized, that were actually a darker shade than Lily's had been).

But all things must end, or so the story goes. September 1st did arrive, and Potter finished packing away his new school things that very morning. By nine 'o' clock, they had left the house (following a hearty breakfast Potter had insisted on cooking), and were bumping along on the Knight Bus. They reached King's Cross by 9:05 precisely, and were among the first to pass through the barrier. Potter had been utterly silent the entire trip, and it occurred to Severus that he was as well. He didn't even know why he had come along. He could have easily put Potter on the bus and apparated from his home. But something had made him want to see the younger wizard safely onto the train.

Severus smirked. Perhaps he'd begun to learn from Potter's past history of attracting trouble. The last thing they needed was a repeat of Second Year.

"What's funny?"

Severus started invisibly. He turned his smirk on his companion as they stood before the Hogwarts Express. "I was thinking of the mishap that began your Second Year."

Potter chuckled. "Yeah, that was quite a mishap. You can thank Dobby and Ron for that hair-brained adventure."

Severus continued to smirk. "And of course you're not to blame."

"Oh no," Potter agreed, grinning. "You'd be amazed how many of my adventures happened because of someone else's bad idea. Ron was the one who wanted to take the car that year, believe it or not."

Severus turned to look upon the unoccupied train. "I believe it. You should find a compartment for yourself and your friends."

Potter nodded, also looking at the train. "Yeah." He turned to Severus and stuck out his hand. "Thanks, Professor, for everything this summer."

Severus couldn't stop a friendly smirk. "It was, surprisingly, my pleasure, Mister Potter." He looked at the extended hand and saw the house key he'd given the young man, waiting in the open palm. With deliberate movements that could leave no doubt, he folded Potter's fingers over the key, and inclined his head ever so slightly.

Potter grinned, shrugged, and pulled away, dragging his trunk towards the train after stuffing the key into his pocket. Severus waited until he saw the young man through the window of the nearest compartment before apparating on the spot. He landed in front of his home and paused. It looked entirely different now. His mother would have been amazed at the transformation Potter had put it through (again, _without magic_ ).

With a smile of satisfaction, Severus walked into his house, which was bright and clean. The transformation inside was almost as amazing as the out. Here, Potter had been forced to use _some_ magic; mostly potions to get the aged, semi-permanent stains out of the furniture, carpets, and wood. He had then re-stained all of the hardwood by hand. He'd also repainted the peeling walls and ceilings, upstairs and down. Severus had been loathe to allow the younger wizard into his bedroom, but he was grateful for it now, as he awoke each morning to a cornflower blue that reminded him of his mother's eyes.

Severus finished packing his things and returned downstairs with his trunk to be sure nothing was forgotten. It was then that the emptiness of the house began to creep in on him. There was where Potter had whooped for joy upon getting a good 'grade' on his extra Potions assignment. And that chair was where Potter had spent each evening reading or studying after dinner. And there was the tea set Potter always made sure was ready and waiting in the afternoons for Severus, never mind how busy he was himself.

Severus felt drained as he recalled the pleasure he'd begun to feel this summer. He had never had a house guest for so long, and already he missed the company. Damn that confounding brat. With a sigh, Severus reminded himself that he had the entire upcoming term to get used to being alone again. Alone was, after all, for the best.

With a _crack_ , Severus apparated from his empty home, ignoring the small cloud of depression that had settled over his heart. Damn that confounding Gryffindor.

 _-Break-_

Severus arrived at the gates of Hogwarts, and a House Elf immediately appeared to take his things to the castle for him. He had just reached the steps of the school when Minerva came out to greet him.

"Oh, Severus, you must come quickly," She said.

Severus frowned. "What's happened?"

"Potter is _missing_ ," The animagus hissed, leading the way into the school.

Severus' frown deepened as he recalled seeing Potter get onto the Hogwarts Express less than an hour ago.

"What are you on about, woman?" Severus demanded, following her into the Entrance Hall.

Minerva nodded frantically, leading him up the Grand Staircase. "Yes, Severus," She said, as if that in any way answered his question. "We sent Remus to collect him from his relatives', since we were uncertain he would make it to the train on his own. But, when Remus arrived, Potter wasn't at the house, and his Uncle growled that he hadn't seen Potter since the third week of vacation and slammed the door in Remus' face. Remus even checked Harry's bedroom, and it was clear no one had been in there all summer. Albus is organizing a search party."

Severus smirked. "Foolish Gryffindor behavior."

Minerva froze in her stride and rounded on him. "Are you not _concerned_?" She demanded.

"Not in the least," Severus answered honestly.

Minerva gaped at him. "Why on Earth not?! I realize the two of you have never gotten on, but to be this _dismissive_ …! Severus, you surprise me."

Severus continued to smirk as he walked past his colleague. "I am not concerned, Minerva, because I know precisely where Potter is. He is, at this moment, on the Hogwarts Express awaiting his friends."

"How could you know such a thing?" Minerva inquired exasperatedly as she caught up to him.

Severus gave her a sidelong glance. "I know, because that is where I left him. Potter spent the summer with me."

The look on the old cat's face was entirely worth the effort as she froze again. Severus fought down a chuckle as he continued down the corridor, though he did allow himself a small smile. It was good to know he could still put surprise on his former professor's face. He could only imagine the infuriatingly knowing look Albus would give him, as if he'd known all along when he couldn't possibly have.


	8. Chapter 8

The first week of term, as it always did, passed in a whirlwind of activity. Severus loathed explaining his reasons for anything, and it made that first day back disdainful in his memory, as he'd been forced to explain three different times his reasons for 'kidnapping' the Wizarding Savior. He refused, however to be coaxed or conned into explaining how the summer had gone. He had been certain, at the time, that Potter's own explanation would be a press release soon enough. In a week it had become clear that Potter's friends knew, but no one else did. Ordinarily, Severus would have assumed that it was because Potter was ashamed of his summer, but the smile he'd received from the young man at the Welcoming Feast betrayed this belief. Potter was, wonder of wonders, simply respecting his privacy.

The annoying thing was that Severus' desire for the young man's company had not yet begun to fade at all. He saw the younger wizard smile with his friends, and he missed the camaraderie they had hesitantly come to share. He watched Potter in class, and recalled evenings spent in in-depth conversation as Potter grew to understand history and philosophy in ways he never had before. He caught glimpses of the young man studying for his start of term exams during meals, and he remembered, with a fondness he had in no way felt at the time, laboriously explaining a concept.

With a sigh, Severus forced his mind away from his troubling, tumultuous thoughts and tried to focus on his marking. For the first time since he'd begun teaching, he had procrastinated in grading the summer essays, and now there was a mountain of them that had to be graded before the end of the weekend. Scowling, Severus hunkered down in his chair and prepared for a long Friday night. Before he could begin, however, there was a knock at his office door.

"Enter," He called in a frustrated growl. He'd noticed lately that he'd become more irritable the more he thought of Potter, but it could hardly be helped. He missed the infuriating Gryffindor.

Said infuriating Gryffindor opened the door and stuck his head in with a shy smile. "Could I, er, bother you for a moment, Professor?"

Severus frowned. "Make it quick, Potter."

The younger wizard came fully into the dimly lit office and closed the door. He approached Severus' desk with more confidence than he'd had in the past. Severus smirked when he was given the benefit of Potter's blush and smile as the younger man lifted green eyes to stare into black. He wondered what the request would be this time.

"I've been thinking, Sir."

Severus's eyebrow rose instantly.

Potter chuckled. "I know, dangerous for me. Anyway, and I'm completely serious, I was wondering if I could cash this in?" He laid a small card on Severus' desk and slid it forward with his fingers.

Severus picked up the card and realized immediately that it was the single favor he had given on the younger wizard's birthday. His other eyebrow joined it's brother near his hairline. He'd said when the favor was given that he wouldn't change a grade, and Potter hadn't had a bad grade yet anyway, so what could the young man want? He looked up at Potter curiously.

Potter's blush deepened, and he grinned. "This is going to sound so stupid," He began promisingly. "But my friends are driving me up a wall. You remember when I asked if I could stay with you? About my freedom and such?"

Severus nodded carefully.

"Right," Potter muttered, clearing his throat. "Well, I was wondering if, perhaps, I could trade in my favor so I could find that freedom here at the school."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Explain."

The Gryffindor cleared his throat again. "Like, coming down here once in a while?" He offered. "Just to study, or read, or…sit there simply enjoying your company without being expected to interact with a dozen people at a time?"

Severus smirked and pretended to consider this, pretending as if he hadn't been pondering this very quandary mere moments ago. Finally, he relaxed his features into a stoic mask, and held the card out. The disappointment on Potter's face was surprisingly heart-wrenching, and Severus decided to put an end to both their suffering. He smirked.

"I'll not take this just yet," He said smoothly. "Instead, you can come down here at your leisure in return for cleaning cauldrons once a week. You may look at the study schedule Granger has no doubt drawn up and inform me later of what one day works best for you. If I happen to have a detention on the night you're meant to clean, you will be excused from the duty for that week. Agreed?"

Potter grinned. "Deal." He took back the card and put it in his pocket for safe-keeping. "Can…can I start now? I've got Hermione's schedule with me, so I could look it over, and maybe get some of my homework done while I'm at it. If I won't be bothering you, that is."

Severus waved off the concern and drew his wand. In a few whispered spells, he'd transfigured the uncomfortable student chair into a cushy, wing-backed armchair, and conjured a small table for the younger wizard's use. Potter's grin widened, and he immediately sat in the proffered seat and began pulling books, parchment, and quills from his bag. As Potter shifted around and got comfortable, Severus returned his focus to his own work. Unsurprisingly, it was much easier to concentrate, now that the subject of his thoughts was there to dispel his tumult.


	9. Chapter 9

Potter coming down became ritual. Two or three times a week, Potter would join him in his office. He was always careful to knock first, and to ascertain whether or not it would be a bother to study quietly for a few hours. Severus, in return, was always careful to dispel this concern as stoically as possible. He was also careful to assign his detentions for Thursday evenings. These were the nights Potter had found absolutely free from responsibility, and had designated for cleaning cauldrons. If Potter noticed that he had yet to actually have to uphold his side of the bargain, he didn't say.

But, of course, neither of them were entirely free from responsibility, even in these stolen moments of peace. Several times during Potter's visits, they had been interrupted. Thus far, it had been limited to Severus' colleagues (and, on one occasion, Potter's frantic friends). They would come to him for one reason or other. At first, Severus had sent Potter away. As time wore on, however, and the other professors grew to accept that the young man was likely to be present, Severus would let the Gryffindor remain. If it were really important, it took only the smallest glance for Potter to silently pack his things and go.

The ritual was perfect.

However, as with all things in Severus' life, that perfection couldn't last. It was only a matter of time before a student worked up the courage necessary to come to the Potions Master's office uninvited.

Severus looked up at the knock on his door. He glanced at his companion, who was diligently working on a Charms essay due tomorrow, sucking on his sugar quill as if it were a lifeline. A small smile touched his lips. The knock came again, and his smile vanished under a scowl. Two or more knocks generally indicated a student, as his colleagues simply walked in. With a sigh, he called to the waiting student, doubtlessly one of his own Slytherins. The only student outside his House that would have reason to come down was already here.

"Enter."

Malfoy strutted confidently into the room, leaving the door open.

"Hello, Professor."

"Malfoy. What do you need?"

The blond feigned hurt. "Can't your favorite student come by for a chat?"

Potter, ever subtle, snorted loudly. Severus sighed, and glanced at the Gryffindor. Potter, still grinning, put up a hand in understanding, and immediately began packing away his things. Malfoy looked nothing less than astonished.

"What are you doing here, Potter?"

Potter glanced slyly at Severus, then back to Malfoy, who'd taken up standing beside his transfigured chair. "I, er, came by for a chat."

Malfoy looked as if he'd been slapped, and remained silent as Potter finished packing away his things. As soon as he'd done, Severus waved his wand. The chair returned to it's natural, uncomfortable state, and the conjured table vanished. Potter slung his bag over his shoulder.

"Have a good rest of evening, Professor, Malfoy," With a mock salute, Potter turned and left the office, ignoring Malfoy's gobsmacked silence.

When the door had closed behind the Gryffindor, Severus turned expectantly to his student. Malfoy rounded on him, his typical holier-than-thou sneer in place.

"So it's true," The blonde brat accused. "I heard rumors that Potter had been coming down to the dungeons regularly without having been assigned detentions. I came to see if it wasn't some joke, but you really are keeping that attention-seeking prat as a pet."

Severus scowled. "Malfoy-!" he snarled. He wasn't allowed to continue, however, as the young heir-apparent wasn't nearly finished.

"Merlin, Snape, I knew you were a traitor to pureblood's, which I was willing to set aside, thanks to you being a half-blood, but now you're a traitor to your own House? What kind of Slytherin keeps a Gryffindor pet? Are you at least fucking him?"

Severus stood abruptly, and his face was such that his student backed away a step. Severus sneered down his nose at the pureblood, and Malfoy paled noticeably (which was really saying something).

"Mister Malfoy," Severus began in a low, cold voice that should have been like ice down the Seventh Year's spine. "I do not know where you get your information, but allow me to clear a few things up for you. Your status as a rich pureblood does _not_ give you the right to comment on another's lineage. Period. As to my relationship with your peer, Mister Potter, though it is no concern of yours who I choose to associate with or give my time to, he is _not_ a pet. If you think anyone could possibly 'keep' that young man, I refer you to the dearly departed Dark Lord. As to the disrespect you think you have _any_ recourse in showing me, you are _sorely mistaken_. You will serve detention-"

"But, I-"

"Every Thursday until Christmas Break. You will also pen a letter of apology to myself and Mister Potter."

"That's not fair!"

Severus lifted an eyebrow wanly. "If, by the Holiday, I have not noticed a marked improvement in your attitude towards Gryffindors and respect for myself, you will then be forced to write a three-foot essay on the noble House of Gryffindor. And if, by some miracle, you are _still_ not capable of showing me the respect I deserve as your elder and better, you will be removed from the Quidditch Team and your Hogsmeade privileges rescinded."

"You can't do that!"

"Do not test me, Mister Malfoy," Severus challenged. The Seventh Year wisely shut up. "I suggest you learn respect, and quickly, or I will make your last year at Hogwarts truly memorable. You may go. I will expect your letters of apology to be delivered no later than this Saturday. Both will be no less than six inches."

Malfoy gaped for a long second before screwing his face up angrily. Severus' eyebrow rose dangerously. The pale mouth snapped shut, and the little ponce turned to storm from the office. Severus heard him mutter something disdainfully. He decided to let it slide, and cleared his throat indelicately. He saw Malfoy flinch before finally vacating his office. Severus slowly lowered himself back into his seat. It felt _good_ to finally put the young man in his place, but it was also unfortunate that Potter had gone. Not to mention, Malfoy's careless words and attitude were sure to bother him for some time.

Resigned to the lonely muttering the rest of the evening promised, Severus returned to his work. A knock on the door to his office stopped him before he could do more than pick up his quill. He looked up with a frown.

"Enter."

Minerva stepped inside, smirking. "I was coming down for a chat, and I think I found something that belongs to you."

Severus looked at his colleague and friend doubtfully. "I haven't lost anything."

Minerva's eyebrow rose curiously, and she turned. "Come along, Potter."

Severus looked past his friend to see her most prized Gryffindor stepping shyly into his office. He looked back at the wily old cat, who turned back with a smirk. He did his best to hide the small thundering in his chest at Potter's swift return. Instead, his own brow creased into a confused frown.

"When I found him he looked as if someone had told him his dog had died," Minerva said slyly. "And as we were heading here, we noticed Malfoy looking especially angry. I thought you could both use a few hours of peace, so I brought him with me."

Severus' frown deepened. "And what of your own concerns which brought you to my dungeons to start with?"

Minerva shrugged. "Nothing quite so important. Certainly nothing that cannot wait until tomorrow. Have a good evening, Severus. I leave Mister Potter in your capable hands. Just make sure he's in his dorm by curfew."

And with that, the manipulative cat animagus left Severus' office with a stern flourish. Potter continued to stand in the doorway, after moving out of the way for his Head of House. He blushed.

"Is it okay if I resume studying here?" He asked shyly. "I promise, I had every intention of leaving you alone the rest of the evening, but Professor McGonagall sort of tricked me into coming back. I can go, if you're too busy, or if you'd just rather be alone."

Severus smirked. "Your Head of House has learned too well from her own old Head of House," He said lightly. Potter chuckled and nodded, and Severus waved his wand. Immediately, the student chair had transfigured and the small table was conjured. "Sit. I'll order some tea, and, if you ask very nicely, we can see if the elves have any more of those chocolate biscuits you prefer."

Potter moved quickly to his chair and set his things down, grinning broadly. "Then this is me, asking nicely."

Severus felt his smirk twitch with humor, and he snapped his fingers. Malfoy and his stringent attitude were, for now, utterly forgotten.


	10. Chapter 10

Christmas Break came with the first ever loss of points in Slytherin by their current Head of House. Malfoy, who Severus had to admit _had_ made _some_ effort towards ignoring Gryffindors, had failed spectacularly two days prior to the start of the holiday. Potter and Granger had been waiting with the rest of Severus' Seventh Year Potions class, and had been discussing their grades on their recent exam. Potter had been happily telling his friends that he'd actually passed with an E, in spite of his own expectations. Granger had been congratulating him when Malfoy (who had barely achieved an A on his exam) had lost what little control he had mustered. He'd shouted loudly that it was 'easy to pass when you were screwing the professor'.

Severus had chosen that moment to open the door. The look on Potter's face had spelled out clearly what he thought of the accusation, but it had been the look on Malfoy's face that was truly priceless. The Slytherin had looked caught between terrified and constipated. Severus, who had not relished taking twenty points from his own House, _was_ looking forward to reading the Malfoy heir's essay on the 'noble House of Gryffindor'. He had already spoken to Malfoy senior, and Lucius had assured him that the essay would be at _least_ three feet, and he would personally have a talk with his son about showing respect for his elders and betters.

One thing Severus had been pleasantly surprised to find during the Holiday was that his ritual with Potter was not to be brought to an end. Two days into the Break, Potter appeared at his door with a shy blush, asking if he could possibly bother him further. Severus had immediately assured him he was welcome, even with the Holiday. After that, Potter had made a point of coming down every day of the Break following dinner. Severus understood, as Potter's friends had thoughtlessly left him at Hogwarts during their last Christmas as students. Potter, when Severus brought this up, had merely laughed and insisted he didn't mind staying behind in the least.

On Christmas morning, Severus awoke to a surprising number of presents at the end of his bed. Only the reminder that he was viewed as a war hero now prevented him banishing the entire pile for fear they were pranks. Even so, he cast several spells on each package and envelope, just in case. And this was not an entirely wasted effort, as he _did_ find two unmarked gifts with concealed Dark Magic, likely from Death Eater sympathizers. He immediately forwarded the gifts to Kingsley Shacklebolt, who would investigate them properly.

Most of the gifts Severus received he found to be utterly useless. Mostly sweets, or potions equipment he already had or which any Master would say were trash. He did, however, get a few new books and useful equipment from those who knew him. Albus had even given him a voucher for ten galleons worth of ingredients at the Apothecary in Diagon Alley. The most surprising gift, however, was a familiarly-shaped parcel, sparsely wrapped in brown paper and twine.

Severus pulled the envelope from under the twine and immediately recognized the untidy scrawl which had addressed it to him. He opened the letter and read the short note curiously.

 _Professor,_

 _I found this in one of the Black vaults when you took me shopping for my school things. I wasn't sure, but Hermione assured me it was very rare, and that I should be extra careful who I share it with. I could think of no one better than you. I know you'll give it the respect it deserves._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Harry Potter_

Curiosity piqued, Severus tore off the paper and twine to reveal a very ancient looking book. He read the title. _Moste Potente Potions_ by Phineas Bourne. He opened the top cover, and his eyes widened as he realized it was a first edition, published in 1627. The book was indeed rare, and held some of the greatest potions for the time. In fact, the first edition had been rumored among the Potions community to contain Potions that had been 'too dangerous' for the later editions. Severus looked forward to finding out if this was true, and definitely looked forward to lording his brand new ownership over the heads of the stuffed shirt Potions Guild at the next Quadrennial Conference.

For now, however, Severus set the gift aside and sat back in his chair to ponder this fresh conundrum presented by Potter's continually giving spirit. He had not planned on giving the young man any gift for the holiday, in large part because he had never expected to receive one. Now, however, much as he had been over the summer, he was faced with a desire to vindicate Potter's generosity and faith. It took only a few moments for him to decide how best to respond. As he stood to dress for breakfast, he was left with the hope that Potter would come down sometime today so the gift could be presented. Severus found himself impatient to return Potter's show of faith.

 _-Break-_

Potter did indeed come down not long after lunch. He had actually been in Severus' office for more than hour, but Severus still hadn't presented his gift. He was uncertain about how to proceed. At Spinner's End it had been a simple matter of answering a question, when he'd presented the key to his home. He did not have this lucky circumstance to fall back on now, however.

Severus looked up at his student, who was curled into a tight ball in his chair, warding off the worst of the cold that pervaded the dungeons as he read from a text he'd been given for the holiday. Thoughtfully, Severus wondered why he hadn't noticed Potter's aversion to the cold before, and he cast a spell to light the fireplace behind him, as well as a mild warming charm on the room in general. Potter smiled at him gratefully and began to slowly uncurl and stretch, a bit like a cat after a nap.

"I received your gift this morning," Severus said gently.

Potter blushed adorably. "Did you? I hope you like it. I wasn't sure if you didn't already own a copy, but Hermione swore it was rare, so…"

Severus nodded. "Yes, you mentioned as much in your note. I doubt you understood the significance of a first edition, but I appreciate the thought behind it. And I am doubly appreciative of the gift's significance, whether or not _you_ are aware of it."

Potter grinned. "I did actually know it was a first edition. Hermione nearly had a heart attack when I showed her the inside cover. But you're probably right, there's probably some level of significance I'm not getting." He chuckled. "You'd be surprised how often that's happened over the years."

Severus smirked and pulled the small roll of parchment from his pocket. "I am afraid I had no way of wrapping your gift."

Potter's smile slipped. "Oh, you didn't have to-"

"It is done," Severus interrupted him in frustration. He held out the parchment, and Potter hesitantly took it from him. "Though you may not have understood the significance of your gift to me, I hope you will understand the significance of the one I'm giving to you."

Potter frowned and unrolled the parchment. He stared without understanding at the Latin phrases, obviously spells, before looking up in confusion. Severus smirked again, and purposefully looked away from that piercing green gaze.

"You should find on that parchment three different spells," He began softly, pretending as if he were in any way returning to his Holiday grading. "These are the wards I use on my classroom and office. Should you ever be seeking solace while I am away, you now have access."

Potter gaped for a long moment. Severus glanced up, and the open maw slowly grew into a grin of Gryffindor proportions. The brat chuckled. "You realize that's happened, like, once."

Severus smirked. "Then we can be assured it won't happen again."

Potter nodded. "I suppose that's true. Thank you, really."

"It is a trifle," Severus said, knowing it was no such thing.


	11. Chapter 11

Severus _hated_ Valentines Day. It seemed an eternity since the Christmas Severus had spent in Potter's company. Potter, surprisingly, had not abused his powers of access, and was still careful to knock every time he came down. Severus had assumed this would continue, and that the Gryffindor had finally learned respect…until the morning of Valentines proved otherwise.

The box of chocolates waiting for him in the center of his desk had been touching. The mass of paper hearts and glitter in his classroom had been another matter entirely. Severus still wasn't clear on what spell the brat had used, but the hearts would not be banished, no matter what spell the Potions Master cast from his considerable library. He went to breakfast feeling as if he could spit fire. Potter's shy smile only served to fan the flames, rather than douse them as the crooked grin usually did. Severus couldn't believe he had allowed himself to trust the self-centered brat. He felt, understandably, utterly betrayed. The look of confusion on Potter's face when Severus didn't acknowledge his smile caused the knife to burrow deeper. The brat didn't even care that he'd created such a mess.

And, of course, Severus didn't have the time to clean his classroom (which he'd discovered had to be done by hand). He was scheduled to chaperone the students in Hogsmeade the entire day. He didn't relish the duty, but he would not renege on his responsibility as a professor of Hogwarts. A part of him considered seeking out the Gryffindor who had so betrayed him, so that he might question the younger wizard's motive. The rest of him violently rejected this brief hint at insanity for such an out-of-character desire. His more dominant, jaded half pretended to not be surprised when Potter was nowhere to be found in the village, and laughed at him even as the knife in his heart burrowed in just a little further. The insolent little fool was probably hiding in the sickening atmosphere of Madame Puddifoots with one or more of his idiotic Gryffindor girlfriends. The rumors amongst the students suggested he had at least three of them.

As the day progressed, Severus succumbed more and more to his foul mood, especially with Potter nowhere to be found for what would surely be a satisfying confrontation (or rather, shouting match). He returned to Hogwarts when the last of the students had begun to trickle back from the village, and went immediately to his rooms to purge himself of the sickly-sweet lovesickness he'd been surrounded by for the majority of the day.

Freshly showered, and with only an hour before dinner, Severus went to his classroom to see what could be done about the mess Potter had left. He briefly considered summoning the House Elves to do it, but that would require lifting the ban he had in place, and he wasn't entirely prepared to allow them access again to his private stores after what had happened three years ago. Bracing himself for the garish chaos that was his classroom, Severus pushed open the door. He couldn't stop himself gaping slightly at what he saw. The hearts were gone, as was the majority of the glitter. Potter stood in the center of his classroom, sweeping up the last of the chaos. The younger wizard looked up with chagrin.

"Sorry, I wanted to be done before you got back," Potter said shyly. "I heard my friends talking about what they did, and I felt responsible, because they stole your list of wards from my trunk. I hope it's okay that I did this. I realize you'll have to change your wards but…is this okay? I mean, is it okay that I came down here when I knew you were gone?"

"I could kiss you!" Severus felt his mind stutter to a halt as the words fell from his mouth. What the hell had he just said?

Potter laughed it off, missing the significance entirely. "It's not that big of a deal, really. It only took me a few hours, and I was glad to have something to do to keep me out of Hogsmeade."

Severus frowned. " _This_ is better than a visit to the village?" He asked, unconvinced.

"Today it is," Potter answered seriously. "Do you have any idea how many girls would have mobbed me if I'd gone to the village today? _Anything_ is better than having to beat a dozen girls off with a stick. Even stinging hexes aren't enough of a deterrent _today_."

Severus' eyebrow rose curiously. "I was under the impression you kept several girls around for just the purpose of company."

Potter scoffed. "Yeah, I've heard the rumors. But I can barely deal with _Hermione_ on any given day, and she's not even a typical girl. I couldn't imagine _dating_ some other girl on top of that, never mind the half-dozen who claim to be dating me. One thing those rumors have taught me is that I'm _way_ too nice sometimes."

"I could have saved you the trouble and informed you of that myself," Severus pointed out with a smirk.

The Gryffindor chuckled. "Probably. But I'm hard-headed, I have to learn by experience."

"Are you finished?" Severus asked, still smirking in appreciation.

Potter nodded, magically bagging the pile of glitter he'd swept up. He levitated the bag full of glitter and hearts as the top tied itself shut. "Yup. Dobby told me that you have wards to keep the House Elves out, so I've been leaving the bags in the corridor."

"I appreciate your assistance, Potter," Severus said sincerely. "When your elf has collected the trash, you may join me in my office. We have an hour yet before dinner, and I would like the opportunity to return your generosity."

"Oh, that's not necessary," Potter demurred. "Like I said, I was partly at fault for this mess."

Severus' eyebrow rose again. "I have chocolate."

Potter grinned. "Well, if you're going to twist my arm…" he joked.

Severus smirked and moved away from the doorway of his classroom. As he walked down the corridor towards his office, he couldn't help the warmth he felt as his submissive, hopeful secret heart flip-flopped at being vindicated. He should have given Potter the benefit of the doubt from the start, and the knife wound he had felt all day seemed to have been swept away with the trash in his classroom. Potter, damned Gryffindor that he was, was making a point of betraying Severus' expectations at every turn. Severus hoped the trend continued. As Severus settled into the chair in his office, he began to contemplate the best ways to punish Potter's friends. He wouldn't take points, as he would only give them back thanks to Potter's generous cleaning. No, this required something much more devious than points loss and cauldron cleaning. This punishment required cunning. Perhaps even a call home to a few parents.


	12. Chapter 12

Severus was cleaning up his classroom after his last class of the year. He heard the knock that came at his door, but chose to ignore it. He was _done_ with students until tonight's Leaving Feast. It was always hell to put up with First Years on the last day of term. He heard the door open in spite of his wards and turned, expecting Minerva or Albus come to ask him to attend the annual staff party after the students left tomorrow. One of them always tried, and once or twice they had both tried. Always in vain. He turned with an immediate 'no' that died on his lips.

Potter was standing bashfully at the far end of the room, blushing a brilliant pink and chewing his lip in front of the closed door. Severus studied the younger wizard carefully, and watched as he drew a deep breath and stepped further into the room.

"Erm, could I perhaps have a moment?" Potter asked, his tone barely more than the mumble Severus had warned him against time and again.

Severus crossed his arms over his chest. "You may," He answered uncertainly.

Potter stepped further into the room. "Hermione said that I was officially no longer a student as soon as my NEWT's were complete. Is that true?"

Severus nodded. "I suppose, technically. Though you are still the responsibility of the school until you arrive at King's Cross, you are legally a functioning member of society once your NEWT's are completed."

Potter released his breath in an audible _whoosh_. "Okay, um…" He stepped closer, very near to Severus, and thrust his hand out. "Here."

Severus unfolded his arms and took the familiar card he had already refused once. He looked at the Gryffindor uncertainly. "What favor would you ask of me?"

Potter looked down to study his shoes as he spoke. "I was wondering…erm, that is, could I possibly…um…"

The younger wizard trailed off as Severus reached out and lifted the stern chin. " _I_ am up here," he reminded the Gryffindor gently.

"Kiss me…?" Potter blurted. His blush deepened as Severus' eyes widened in surprise.

Before Severus had time to form an appropriate response, or even think of how he wanted to respond, Potter took his silence as consent and pressed forward. Their lips met in a shy, hesitant kiss, and Severus froze. Could he do this to himself? A stupid question. He already _had_ done this to himself. Ever since Potter had stood between him and his relatives, ever since that impossibly smaller hand had touched his wrist and the Gryffindor had pleaded mercy on his relatives' behalf…Everything since then had only served to strengthen the emotions he had felt that day.

Before Potter could pull away entirely from the one-sided kiss, Severus pulled the younger wizard further towards him. He eagerly returned the kiss, and Potter willingly submitted to his greater experience as the kiss deepened. Severus felt his heart thunder in his chest, his fingers trembling as they glided along perfect skin into tousled hair, cupping the back of the Gryffindor's head to draw him even further into his embrace. Potter's back arched towards him as Severus leaned over the smaller frame. The world stilled, and time slowed. Nothing around them existed until the need for air drove them apart.

Severus placed his forehead against Potter's. "You know," He murmured breathlessly. "You're never going to be rid of this if you don't stop asking for things that are no favor to give."

Potter chuckled as the card was slipped into his pocket by nimble fingers. "Don't suppose you're in the market for a roommate?"

"It's a bit early to be picking out curtains together."

Harry laughed. "Didn't we do that last summer?"

Severus' eyebrow rose precariously.

Potter chuckled again. "Alright, granted. But I'm not talking about moving into your bedroom. I was just thinking it would be easier than finding a place of my own until I get my NEWT results and find out what I can do about work. Not to mention, there's still a lot of work I didn't get to finish last summer. I was going to completely redo the bathrooms, and maybe the kitchen."

Severus groaned. "I feel as if I should tell you 'no' merely on principle."

Harry grinned. "If it helps, I was considering letting you help pay for it this time."

Severus' eyebrow rose again, this time curious.

The Gryffindor smirked. "Mind, I said _considering_. You'll have to use that silver tongue to convince me."

Severus, taking this as a challenge, kissed the brat soundly.

Potter drew back with a groan. "That definitely helps your cause," He murmured.

Severus rested his forehead against the younger wizard's. "In all seriousness" he began softly. "My home is always open to you, Harry."

The Gryffindor's smile returned. "Thanks…Are you saying you're open to picking out curtains together? Because the ones in the kitchen are honestly horrid."

"My _father_ picked out those curtains, Mister Potter."

Harry chuckled. "Then I count my blessings that you got your mother's taste."

Severus gave his own dark chuckle before drawing the younger wizard into a slow, passionate kiss. As his heart reached out to the young man submitting to his ministrations, he wondered if the Gryffindor had noticed that he hadn't actually replied. Silence, in this case, was most definitely consent.


End file.
